


Difference

by naboru



Series: *ence Series [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Plug and Play, Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-04
Packaged: 2017-10-28 22:46:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/313010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naboru/pseuds/naboru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re both socially incompatible for different reasons, but at least one of them wants to try to understand the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Difference

**Title:** Difference  
 **Warnings:** slash, smut (of the plug’n’play variety, slight dub-con), mentions of possible genocide  
 **[tf_rare_pairing](http://tf-rare-pairing.livejournal.com/) prompt:** Blast Off, Sixshot - Deprived from the Start  
 **Continuity:** G1  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Sixshot/Blast Off, Vortex, Brawl  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Disclaimer:** Sadly, nothing is mine.  
 **Beta:** [ultharkitty](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty) *glomps* :D  
 **Summary:** They’re both socially incompatible for different reasons, but at least one of them wants to try to understand the other.

 **Note:** Follows [_Indifference_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/221522). Begins a few days later. :)  
A prompt is where I start, not where I necessarily end up.

 

**Difference**

Blast Off noticed the six changer only because he sat down at the table opposite him. The bulk was hard not to notice, and he briefly glanced up without moving his head.

Six-something was the other’s name, Blast Off mused. A rather stupid and obvious name for someone who had six modes. That, however, was all thought he spent on the other mech before he continued reading.

“You’re not scared,” the other said. It wasn’t a question, and Blast Off didn’t exactly know what the other meant.

“No.” His voice was blank when he replied, his optics still focused on the pad.

“I’m a weapon of mass destruction.”

So what? Blast Off would have liked to reply, but he didn’t and instead chose different words. It wasn’t as though this would mean anything in the Decepticon ranks.

He huff. “So is Megatron. And so am I.”

“Are you scared of Megatron?”

 _This_ was a question, and Blast Off didn’t like it. His loyalty program pinged and sent an irritating twinge down his spine. His engine revved to a quiet growl. There were only wrong answers to this question.

He stood up and shot the six changer an angry look. His optics became brighter for a fraction of an astrosecond as he snapped. “ _Never_ ask me anything about Megatron!”

Blast Off left without another word.

***

Waiting for the hangar door to be opened, Blast Off leant at the wall, again reading and ignoring his surroundings.

“You do read a lot,” a voice said, and Blast Off couldn’t stop himself from wincing.

When he raised his head, he saw the six changer.

Blast Off frowned. He didn’t know the other mech also had to leave for a mission.

“I do,” was the shuttle’s short response, and his optics dropped back at the writing.

“Why?”

What kind of question was that?

Blast Off huffed condescendingly. “It’s information.” And information was good.

A new sound, it could have been a dry laugh, but Blast Off was neither sure nor interested. Then the other spoke once more.

“You’re not afraid of me.”

This was going to get unnerving, and Blast Off shook his head in annoyance. “I am not. There is no reason. And didn’t we have this conversation already.”

The sound again, and yes, it seemed to be a quiet, dry laugh. Blast Off didn’t know what could be funny, and he didn’t want to know. He wanted to be left alone.

The shuttle was just about to say that when the hangar door opened.

“Are you ready?” A Constructicon appeared at the entrance, and Blast Off pushed himself off the wall. He nodded, and walked past the other, entering the hangar wordlessly.

“Sixshot?” Blast Off heard the Constructicon say behind him, and now he remembered. Right, this was the six changer’s name, but he would probably forget it again soon.

He paid no more attention to the two other mechs, or to Sixshot walking away. He transformed, and braced himself for lift off.

***

“Ah, c’mon. It’s just a little favour,” Vortex begged. He walked beside Blast Off through the hallways of the Nemesis, rotor blades quivering slightly like they always did. He needed to annoy the shuttle enough that he would agree to his and Brawl’s funny little idea.

“No!”

Vortex suppressed a sigh. It might need a bit more time.

“Why not?” The grin behind his battle mask was audible on purpose, and Blast Off shot him a look.

“Because it’s dumb and sick. And I do not participate in yours and Brawl’s stupidities.”

“But we’re team.”

“Only on the battlefield!”

“You’re such a meanie.” Vortex pretended to be sad and hurt, looking at his feet.

“I am.”

At that, Vortex’ grin broadened, but froze instantly when Sixshot came round he corner and walked towards them.

He kept quiet, the optics behind the visor fixed on the big mech, who seemed to ignore him.

Blast Off, though, wasn’t ignored. The six changer glanced at the shuttle, optics lighting up, and nodded briefly when he passed them.

Vortex’ rotors became still.

The moment when Vortex could be sure the other was out of hearing, he asked, his voice completely lacking the former cheerfulness. “Since when are you friends with Sixshot?”

Blast Off frowned, and Vortex could guess that the shuttle had no idea what he was talking about.

“You don’t frag him, do you?”

“Excuse me?”

Apparently, this was a ‘no’. Good, Vortex thought, but it still annoyed him. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if Blast Off really was this oblivious to his surroundings and intermech interactions, or if he just ignored it and acted as though he didn’t notice.

“Unlike you,” Blast Off interrupted his musings with the disdainful tone of his, “I don’t stick my interfacing cable in everything that crosses my path.”

“Uhm…” Vortex already knew this offence, of which he didn’t think it was one, and he shrugged. “Yeah, guess so… Anyway. I gotta go!” He stopped and patted the shuttle’s shoulder, who growled in response.

“You know, gotta do stuff, like sticking my cable into something that crosses my path.” Vortex laughed, and turned, observing from the corner of his optics an indifferent shrug when Blast Off continued in his way.

And considering this, it seemed as though Blast Off really was oblivious.

\---

Sixshot sat on a berth in medbay. He was a few kliks early and no one besides him was there. The Constructicons wouldn’t show up before it was time for the appointment, and Sixshot didn’t think anything of it; he’d never known it any different.

During the time he waited, he calculated how long it would take to exterminate every life form on this planet; if the Autobots and their Prime weren’t there and he didn’t have to worry about fellow Decepticons. Not that they mattered. If they were in the way, it was their own fault, but Sixshot wasn’t fond of explaining casualties to Megatron.

The humans didn’t possess strong enough weapons, only their so-called nuclear weapons could be a danger to him because of the heat they unleashed. But it should be possible to destroy these rocket launching sites quickly… Then he could take care of the most densely populated areas and cities, and…

“Hey there!”

Sixshot winced. He wasn’t used being talked to from others than Megatron.

He hadn’t noticed someone coming in, or sitting down on of the opposite berth.

The Combaticon helicopter looked at him. With his face hidden behind a battle mask and the red visor, Sixshot didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t like him. Vortex - he knew the name, and he knew stories about him. And even if just half of them were true, than the ‘copter was a sick little glitch with serious problems.

“Why are you in medbay?” the ‘copter asked, his voice friendly and curious, his head tilted.

Sixshot growled quietly. He also knew that Vortex was an interrogator, and he didn’t like the fact. It was better to keep quiet around the Combaticon.

“Never though you get damaged. I mean, you fraggin’ strong, right?”

Sixshot’s fingers twitched, and he still remained silent. What did the other want? According to the stories the troops told each other, Vortex never did anything without an intention or purpose…

“Hmmm… guess you’re the quiet kind of guy…” A brief pause, before the visor lit up, and the ‘copter asked with a mischievous tone. “Hey, wanna frag?”

Sick, nymphomaniacal glitch, Sixshot thought, but answered, not longer being able to be quiet. “Wanna die?!”

“Oh, is that a promise? I hope you mean the fun, slow sort of dying.” A cheerful laugh, before the other’s voice became serious, as though he hadn’t been friendly at all. “I’m not afraid of you.”

Sixshot’s answer was a snort. He’d seen the ‘copter’s rotors shivering in the hallway before, which was a sign of excitement, and which was a warning to stay the slag away from him if you didn’t want to get fragged in a pretty vicious way. It was not that Sixshot cared about that. If Vortex would try anything he didn’t agree to, he would just rip him in two. But right now, the rotor blades didn’t move…

“You _are_ ,” was all he said.

Vortex glared at him, and there was another pause before the he jumped off the berth.

“Blast Off,” the ‘copter began, his tone cold, “is _our_ shuttle. You may have a bad reputation, but so have we…” and with that, Vortex left.

The medbay door shut with a soft clang which was drowned out by Sixshot’s growl.

***

Again, Blast Off sat in the empty rec-room. It was late, but not late enough to be the only explanation for the deserted room.

Another energon raid had gone wrong, and most mechs of the Decepticon army were in medbay or in their quarters. Only a few were on duty, because the systems of the Nemesis had to be maintained.

Blast Off, though, had neither been involved in today’s plan nor was on duty, and so he spent his time reading. Thanks to an explosion Brawl had caused, Blast Off had to share his quarters with Swindle for a few days, and so he rather tried to avoid his room.

Time passed, only Sixshot having entered the rec-room a while ago. Over the last few weeks, the shuttle had already become used to the other’s presence, and he ignored him.

At least until the six changer sat down on the same table, which meant Blast Off would again be involved in a conversation he didn’t want to have.

He suppressed a sigh.

There was again small talk, in which Sixshot said something, and Blast Off answered shortly, if he did at all. He wondered briefly why the other still bothered talking to him. Usually when Blast Off denied answers, or showed his disinterest like this, the conversational partner gave up quickly - except Vortex, but the ‘copter was another matter entirely.

It had been some time since the last statement from the six changer, and Blast Off hoped that it meant he would keep quiet from now on. The shuttle searched for the last line he had been reading, and grabbed his energon cube, sipping slowly.

“I have six different modes,“ Sixshot broke the silence, and Blast Off tilted his head at the sudden change of topic.

He didn’t know why the six changer said it at all, and his only guess was that he thought he was better than the rest of them.

Blast Off huffed, keeping quiet.

“…don’t you think I’m an abomination?”

This question made Blast Off frown, and it surprised him. Another huff as he looked up. Sixshot wasn’t the only freak around here, the shuttle mused, but replied unimpressed.

“If you haven’t noticed, I’m the right arm of an extremely strong and extremely stupid robot, what do you think I am thinking?”

His gaze returned again to the datapad, hoping that the conversation was settled with this. He hated small talk. It was bad enough when Vortex tried to goad him, or when he had to explain things to Brawl that the dense tank wouldn’t understand anyway.

Unfortunately, for Sixshot it didn’t seem to mean an end of their talking.

“I could destroy all the life on this planet in about four or five days…”

Blast Off hindered his engine from revving. Was this another attempt to act up?

“So what?” he answered, his voice full of condescension. “I’ve seen and experienced worse things. I’ve watched foreign planets fight and lose against foes far more powerful and cruel than you claim to be. So what?”

Finally, the other apparently had enough and was quiet.

At least for a klik, then he spoke anew.

“You’ve been in the Detention Centre. Is this one of the _worse_ things?”

Blast Off didn’t look up from his datapad. What was the point in stating that? It wasn’t a secret that the Combaticons had betrayed Megatron once and had been imprisoned, and neither it was a secret that Megatron hadn’t done it again when they betrayed him a second time after their release.

“How was it?”

He tensed. This was definitely the wrong question and the wrong topic. His optics lost focus for a few astroseconds, and he was unable to concentrate on the text written on the pad. He didn’t respond, just kept sitting for another klik, before he stood up.

Blast Off never glanced at Sixshot in the process. Letting his half full cube of energon on the table, he headed to the exit.

“Hey!” He heard the other’s voice, but decided to ignore it. Then a growl. “Don’t you dare do that again!”

Blast Off had only an astrosecond to speculate what the other meant when his shoulder was grabbed by a strong hand and he was pulled back. The six changer walked around him, quickly, blocking the exit with his bulky stature before he moved the heavy slide door with one hand, making it look so easily.

With a snap, the door clicked into place and in front of it stood Sixshot, staring at Blast Off. Angry enough that even the shuttle noticed the irritation in his optics.

“Let me out!” Blast Off wasn’t in the mood for this nonsense. Trying to reach the door, he stepped forward. The attempt was interrupted, though, by fingers closing around his throat and with a swift move, his back met the wall with a loud clang.

Blast Off growled, and his cannons activated on their own, battle programming coming online as it tried to make out where to hit the other mech without damaging himself.

Sixshot just stared at him, and Blast Off scowled back.

He didn’t fire, even though his target systems locked onto the other’s shoulder.

“You’re not afraid.”

“No, I am not. I’m angry. Let go of me!” Blast Off spat, and to his surprise, Sixshot’s hand released him and the other backed off a little.

Still, the shuttle didn’t trust the situation, and observed the other for another moment.

“Why?”

It was an unexpected question, although it was far from the first time the six changer had asked it.

“What? Why I’m not scared of you? Tsk,” Blast Off grimaced. All these questions annoyed him, and it might have been because he didn’t understand the other’s reasons for asking in the first place. “Why do you want to know all the time?! There is no reason. Do you want me to be scared?”

There was a quiet growl before Sixshot answered with a tone which Blast Off interpreted as angry, but it also could have been frustration, the shuttle didn’t know.

“No. I don’t want that. I want…”

 _What?!_ , Blast Off thought, but didn’t ask, because he lacked any true interest in finding out. _He_ wanted to be left alone.

“I don’t get it,” he said honestly, and turned. His hand reached to open the door, but his back hit the wall once more.

Again he was trapped between the metal and Sixshot’s bulk when the larger mech pressed him to the wall, pressing his lips at Blast Off’s at the same time.

Blast Off’s optics flickered. It was all too quick, his CPU trying to work out what happened at all when the other kissed him harshly, demanding.

An attempt to brace himself against the six changer and push him away was futile. Sixshot pressed closer and pinned Blast Off’s hands to the wall. Their plaiting touched, and Sixshot’s engine revved hard. Vibrations were sent straight into the shuttle’s armour and it reverberated through him, reaching even the last inch of his body and inner systems and he gasped.

The other took this opportunity to part the lips even more; his glossa entered Blast Off’s mouth, and he shuddered.

This was a whole new experience to Blast Off. There was no use in fighting back, because even though he wasn’t the weakest Decepticon, Sixshot was still stronger, and his cannons would hurt him, too, if he fired them with the other this close.

Though if he was honest, Blast Off wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ to fight back. He also could make the best of this, he mused absentmindedly as the rough vibrations rattling through him began to feel more pleasant than expected.

Blast Off revved his engine in response and kissed back.

There was a moment in which the time seemed to stand still when Sixshot froze for an instant, but then relaxed and let out a needy groan.

Blast Off hadn’t even noticed how tense the other had been until then. His lips tugged to a small grin as the other let go of his arms and placed his hands on his side instead, pushing him closer to the wall while the contact of their plating increased. The trembling caused by pleasure was drowned out by the vibrations of different engines mingling together.

The shuttle’s energy field throbbed, but not wide enough to flare over the other, and it was Sixshot’s field which rushed over him. _This_ was definitely new, and it felt so very different as the other’s energy rolled over him and into his seams and circuits. It was intense, like a thunderstorm striking him, and the energy signature was unlike other mechs’ Blast Off had interfaced with.

“Oh slaggin’…” he muttered, braking the kiss, moaning. He clutched at the other’s shoulder and lower arm for purchase when Sixshot flared his field anew, the need and lust clearly readable in it as in the desperate, almost clumsy, touches on his plating.

Yes, Blast Off thought, he really should make the best out of this, and he let go of the other’s arm. If he had to be touched, then he should show the other where it felt the best. He reached for the other’s wrist and placed the hand at his upper side where his thorax met his back plating.

Sixshot, apparently, got the hint, as his fingers dug into a transformation seam there and stroked the sensitive cables and circuitry beneath. It was a mixture of tickling and pleasure, and Blast Off moaned, grinning at the same time.

His cooling fans kicked in, and his fingers released the strong shoulder, tracing over the parts of six changer’s frame he could reach, down the side and over the rim of the interfacing panel.

Sixshot groaned, biting into Blast Off’s neck cables as he clutched at the other’s panel, so tight it almost hurt.

Blast Off’s optics lost focus, and he gave the command for his interfacing panel to click open; this was better than it being ripped off, and considering the other’s desperate need, it surely could have happened.

Sixshot mumbled something, but with his face hidden in Blast Off’s throat, it was unintelligible.

What Blast Off could hear was the click of the other’s panel, and he felt his connector plugging in. He extended his field, and sent a first pulse of pleasurable energy into the six changer, who gasped, the hand at the back shivering.

Then, the connection was complete, and it was Blast Off’s turn to gasp and shudder when Sixshot’s burst of raw energy exploded in him, and it triggered a pleasure on his sensor net which almost bordered on pain. His equilibrium chip began glitching already, and he arched his back when the other pressed him harder at the wall.

This was good, and intense, and Blast Off wrapped his legs around the other’s waist as the first bursts followed one after another. His fingers of one hand dug into the transformation seams of Sixshot’s upper arm, while the other scratched over the other’s back.

And if Blast Off had enough processor capacity left, he would have mused about never having been in this position before.

As it was, though, he didn’t give a slag, because he’d stopped thinking a while ago, something which was rather easy with the raw, unfamiliar energy signature and strength inside and around him.

Only briefly he realised the powerful grab on his aft, supporting him and holding him up, while the tight grip sent even more pleasurable waves of sensations up his spine.

Blast Off moaned and gasped, and his noises mixed with the sighs and groans of Sixshot while both their engines rumbled on the highest setting, generating vibrations and pleasure, and Blast Off wasn’t sure how long he would last.

The six changer clutching needily at him, the pressure of the touches increased, but the pain was drowned by all the other sensations and it didn’t matter. The intensity of the energy pulses increased another notch, while the panting became frantic and the other’s field flared wildly, seemingly uncontrolled.

Sixshot’s lips found Blast Off’s for another rough kiss, and he bit down on the shuttle’s lower lip as the energy flow stopped for an instant.

Then, Sixshot overloaded, and the boom of pleasure was transmitted right into Blast Off. Every sensor node in his body came online as it felt as though he was struck by lightning. He lost control, and the electricity rushing up and down his body made him feel sick for a fraction of an astrosecond, then it was pleasure again, an explosion of it, a flood of sensations and bliss. He was utterly still, his vocaliser malfunctioned, and his optics glowed brightly, warnings rushing over his HUD.

Blast Off only realised the ache in his joints when the pleasure slowly ebbed and the overload tension settled, sending him into a state of utter relaxation and contentment. He almost slid down the wall as his grip at the other loosened. The hand on his aft was gone, was now bracing Sixshot whose systems worked fast, and who panted still quickly. Blast Off set a foot on the ground again, feeling equally as worn out as the other looked, and sighed.

The shivers and prickling waves of post overload still remained in his system, and he reset his vocaliser. Blast Off’s voice, however, was still full of static as he spoke.

“I think I get it now.”

***  
***

**Epilogue**

“Hui~” Brawl turned in the swivel chair of the monitor room, his voice utterly bored despite the interjection.

He stopped and sighed. If he broke another chair, Soundwave would kill him. Well, that was what the tank thought at least. He never really got the hang of Soundwave’s speech pattern and what the communication officer really meant, but Brawl knew that he didn’t like broken chairs.

“This is so boring…” he muttered and turned again to the monitors. Of all the mechs why did he have to be on monitor duty tonight? Of course, it could be because of the unwanted explosion in Swindle’s quarters - with Swindle still in it, but still…

He sighed again. Onslaught could be so mean.

Disinterested, Brawl switched through the various cameras, his chin resting on the heel of his hand when it suddenly made contact with the control console.

“Holy, slaggin’ _what_?!” Brawl blurted, shocked, and partly excited as he rebooted his optics and zoomed in closer on the view of a certain camera.

Well, this was interesting - and hot.

His optical sensors flickered behind his visor, and there was a nice tingling buzz in his systems, caused by the view.

This was something the ‘copter had to see. Absolutely. And it might be enough to make his shift more entertaining.

Not hesitating, Brawl opened a com link to Vortex.

‘Hey, crazy ‘copter!’

There was a pause, and Brawl was already thinking that he wouldn’t get an answer at all. That would be disappointing…

‘Hmmnn…?’ Vortex finally answered, sounding drowsy.

‘Yo ‘copter, you’re fraggin?’

‘No, I’m recharging! What the frag do you want?!’

‘Oh, good!’ Brawl grinned, and jumped up and down on his chair, his optics fixed on the screen. ‘Yo, I have something you just _need_ to see! Come over here. Frag, this is hot!’

‘…what?’ The other’s voice now sounded slightly more awake and interested.

‘Hehe, you’ll never guess. Blast Off gets fragged by Sixshot. In the rec-room. Whoo~hoo~!’

Another pause, and Brawl frowned. ‘Vortex?’

A growl over the commlink, before Vortex snapped. ‘No, I really don’t need to see that! And never dare wake me up because of slag like that!’ And then the commlink was dead.

“Uhm…” Brawl mumbled, confused. He hadn’t expected that. Well, that was unfortunate. The view of two war machines fraggin’ each other senseless was just too good not to be shared; and Brawl didn’t want to take care of his growing charge alone.

He pondered with comming Onslaught, but decided against it.

He thought for another moment, biting his lip, before he finally opened another link.

‘Hey, Swindle…’


End file.
